


a collection of moments

by queerly_yours



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Getting Together, saying i love you for the first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3809839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerly_yours/pseuds/queerly_yours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is love anyway? It’s more than words. It’s actions taking place in moments where your whole world shifts to one person. The moments add up, and the person becomes a part of you. A part that you can’t live without. And you wouldn’t want to anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a collection of moments

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Berica Week.

_What is love anyway? It’s more than words. It’s actions taking place in moments where your whole world shifts to one person. The moments add up, and the person becomes a part of you. A part that you can’t live without. And you wouldn’t want to anyway._

**i.**  

She leans over his bloodied form, arrows sticking out of his chest, eyes burning gold in the midnight sky.

“Boyd, it’s gonna be fine. You’re okay,” Erica tells him, her heart beating out of her chest.

The light in his eyes is dimming with each passing second. She can hear his own heart stutter, falter.

“Don’t leave me,” she half growls, half cries as she rips an arrow out of his chest.

His eyes flicker open and bore into hers. He grabs her hand. “Won’t,” he mumbles before passing out.

**ii.**

Erica burrows under the blankets in Derek’s loft. She’s been feeling alone lately. It’s Valentine’s Day, and everyone is out celebrating. She just needed the scent of pack to make her feel whole.

She hears him before he opens the door, but doesn’t bother moving.

Boyd sits down on the coffee table, smiling to himself. “I brought Mean Girls and grape soda.”

Her head pops out of the blankets slowly, and she eyes him speculatively. “And…caramel corn?”

His simple grin is answer enough.

**iii.**

“I’m so sick of this shit, Alex,” she says.

Boyd could hear the other line if he wanted to, but this is private, and Erica would be livid if she knew that he was listening.

“Well, okay then, you jackass. Step off.”

 _God, she’s fierce_ , Boyd thinks.

He hears a sniffle as soon as she hangs up the phone.

“Erica,” he whispers, moving in to offer her comfort, but she puts up a hand to stop him.

“No, I am not going to cry over that jerk.”

She takes a few minutes to pull herself together and then says, “Laser tag?”

He grins. “I’m going to kick your ass like always, Reyes.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah, right!”

**iv.**

Erica’s packing. She’s going to leave Beacon Hills. This place – it’s not good for her anymore. It’s time.

She’s shoving her favorite sweater in the duffle when she senses him.

Boyd’s standing in the doorway, holding an old t-shirt of hers. Well, it was his, but he gave it to her one day to wear and she never gave it back. She put in in his mailbox with a letter because she couldn’t handle having to see his face. Apparently she wasn’t quick enough.

She continues packing, not chancing another glance to him. “I’m sorry. I was planning on being gone before you found that.”

“I smelled it, Erica,” Boyd says, walking to her. He catches her arm, pulls her away from packing. Lifting her chin, he forces her to look him in the eyes. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

Her breath hitches. “Boyd…” She trails off, not quite knowing what to say.

He pauses, his eyes searching hers, then going fierce like he’s made a decision. That’s when he leans in and takes her mouth with his own. She’s stiff against him for a brief moment before melting into his arms.

“I love you, Erica Reyes,” he says, eyes closed, forehead pressed to hers. “Please…don’t leave me.”

She sighs happily and wraps her arms around his neck. “I love you, too.”

She kisses him then, soft and sweet, full of unspoken promises, wishes, and dreams.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says, grabbing the duffel off of her bed.

He raises an eyebrow at her, confusion and curiosity shining in his eyes.

“To yours of course.” She grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers. “Let’s not waste anymore time.”


End file.
